


Have we ever loved?

by Eorendel



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet, Fluff and Smut, Hopeful Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Power of Words, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Secrets, Steve Rogers Feels, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:13:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5551985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eorendel/pseuds/Eorendel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yeah," he let go of Bucky’s hands, and dove in for a soft kiss, whispering the words, "yeah I am—been a long time, stupid for you. Too dumb to realize anything. But I get it now. I’ve got you now. I got you. I ain’t letting you go."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have we ever loved?

"Are you okay?"

Bucky didn't look at Steve’s face when he asked that. It was a nice thing to ask, stupid and unnecessary, but nice nonetheless.

He drew a breath, gripping Steve's shoulders as he tried to get comfortable on the thin rug Steve managed to find for them. "I'm good. Stop worrying."

"Tell me if it hurts." Steve held Bucky's face between his hands, his gaze steady on Bucky. "Tell me if I hurt you."

Bucky drew another breath, this time shakily, his heart hadn't quieted down since they got there, it hasn't quieted since the first time they kissed, and it threatened to jump out of his chest now that Steve was inside him. He was strangely calm though.

It should have been a shock, this moment should be plagued with doubts, questions and uncertainty. Instead, a sense of belonging, of rightness, spread throughout his entire being. Quite frankly, he felt drunk. He knew now that someone could get intoxicated from mere happiness.

Bucky, at least, wanted to believe that—just for a moment.

He felt dazed, so he didn't realize when his hands cupped Steve's face. There was a smudge of dirt on his cheek, and he tried to clean it off with his thumb.

"You're not gonna hurt me."

Steve opened his mouth, no doubt to protest.

"You can't," Bucky said and pulled him down, making him choke on air as he got impossibly close, as it got impossibly tight. "You can't hurt me."

There was something Bucky wasn't able to say. Maybe because he didn't want to believe it himself. So his words were just as true as they were a lie.

"C'mon Steve, we don't have time."

Steve gripped his hips, thrusting slow and hard into Bucky, earning a shudder and a cut off groan. It remained like that for a few minutes, slow paced and sweet. Bucky really wanted that, for them to take their time to explore each other, but they were at war; they were living on borrowed time. He thrusted up to meet Steve, again and again, until the sedated pace of before was only a faded memory.

The dilapidated house they were in was cold from the rain. Bucky didn't like it, it chilled him to the bone. He wanted his jacket, but that and everything else had been discarded, he was naked because of Steve, even if he was shy at first—tentatively exploring parts of Bucky’s body he hadn’t seen— had mapped every inch of skin with his hands and lips.

He was panting, groaning, making little sounds he had never made before—he felt Steve getting harder inside him, pushing deeper, deep, deep, so deep... The pleasure of having Steve all to himself, pleasure of forgetting where they were – just for a moment – was almost unbearable. Bucky didn't know if he wanted to stay still, or to move in tandem with Steve, or away from him.

Steve kept on watching him. He had been watching Bucky since they kissed, there was something dark in his eyes, a hunger that wasn’t there before, some kind of want that made Bucky’s insides twist and turn. He made Steve have that look; it was too much, but he wanted more of it, he wanted more of everything, he wanted more of Steve. He called Steve’s name over and over trying to get his point across, but his brain and mouth weren’t cooperating, so he sought Steve’s lips, biting, kissing, and tasting them desperately.

"God, I want to draw you," Steve said suddenly, hands gripping Bucky’s, holding them over his head, he stopped moving, gazed at Bucky in sudden realization, as if he had properly _seen_ Bucky for the first time. “You’re so beautiful, oh God, you’re gorgeous.”  He then decided to grip both of Bucky’s hands with one, because now he could, and ran his free hand down Bucky’s skin reverently.

“What?” Bucky asked dazedly, feeling Steve’s hand stroke his cock, thumb caressing the underside, making it twitch—yanking a groan out of Bucky. "Are you—ngg—stupid?"

"Yeah," he let go of Bucky’s hands, and dove in for a soft kiss, whispering the words, "yeah I am— _been_ a long time, stupid for you. Too dumb to realize anything. But I get it now. I’ve got you now. I got you. I ain’t letting you go."

Bucky couldn’t speak and Steve dabbed at something rolling down his cheek. Bucky pulled Steve closer, kissing him deeply, wishing the dread that still clung to his rib cage would go away while Steve’s gentle hands reminded him he was alive.


End file.
